The nine-tailed fox's unconscious screams had finally reduced to whimpers.
Lucion stood before Yasaka's bound form, watching with clinical detachment as the binding stone ritual continued its work. The massive kitsune lay sprawled across the ritual circle, each of her nine tails pinned by ethereal chains that pulsed with corrupted leyline energy.
Golden fur that should have shimmered with divine radiance now appeared dull and matted, her spiritual power being systematically drained and redirected into the network of corrupted nodes spreading beneath Kyoto.
The cave chamber was vast, its walls carved with demonic runes that glowed a sickly crimson. The binding stone itself—a crystalline monolith nearly ten feet tall—occupied the center of the ritual circle, its surface crawling with black veins that pulsed in rhythm with Yasaka's labored breathing. Each pulse drew more of her power, feeding it into the leyline corruption process.
The power to be gained would be magnificent once the ritual was complete. But that was the problem. It wasn't fast enough.
Lucion turned from the spectacle to face his remaining lieutenants. They stood in a semicircle at the edge of the ritual space, each representing the remaining core of his demonic force. Cydaea, voluptuous and predatory in her purple-black latex armor, watched the ritual with hungry eyes.
Astaroth, whose arrogance matched his considerable power, leaned against the cavern wall with affected casualness. The Blood Knight—his most powerful lieutenant—stood at attention in his crimson full plate, a monument to demonic martial prowess.
"Status," Lucion commanded, his voice cutting through the ambient hum of the ritual.
Astaroth pushed off from the wall, a smirk playing across his features. "The yokai are mobilizing faster than anticipated. Our scouts report approximately two thousand warriors converging on Kyoto. They're organizing, which means they've figured out we're here."
"And the leyline network?" Lucion's tone remained flat, emotionless.
"Sixty-nine percent corrupted," Cydaea answered, a seductive smile on her face, likely appreciating the coincidental number. "We control most of the major nodes and several dozen minor ones here in Kyoto. But..." She hesitated, which was unusual for her. "It's not enough."
Lucion's jaw tightened imperceptibly. He'd known this was a possibility—that the yokai would mobilize before they could complete the corruption network. But knowing and experiencing were different things.
"Elaborate," he said coldly.
The Blood Knight stepped forward, his voice a deep rumble from within his helm. "The binding ritual requires at least eighty-five percent leyline control to stabilize. Any less, and we risk the corruption reversing when we release the fox. We'd lose everything we've gained."
"Time estimate until we reach that threshold?"
"Thirty-six hours," Cydaea replied. "Possibly longer if the yokai begin actively purifying nodes. Which they will, once they understand what we're doing, if they haven't already."
Thirty-six hours. They didn't have thirty-six hours. The yokai would attack within the day, possibly within hours. And while his forces were considerable—over three thousand demons assembled in these caves—they weren't infinite. A prolonged siege would erode their numbers, and if the yokai broke through before the ritual was completed...
Unacceptable.
Lucion began pacing, his mind working through tactical calculations with machine-like precision. The binding stone ritual was the cornerstone of their entire operation. Once complete, it would give them permanent control over Kyoto's leyline network, transforming the spiritual infrastructure from a source of yokai power into a wellspring of demonic energy, and not the pale imitation the devils used. With that accomplished, they could expand outward, corrupting other regions, building the foundation for a true demon foothold in the human world.
But they needed more leylines. More nodes under their control to push the corruption past the critical threshold.
"Kuoh," he said abruptly, stopping mid-pace.
Three pairs of eyes fixed on him.
"My lord?" Cydaea prompted.
"Kuoh City," Lucion repeated, turning to face them. "It's within the broader leyline network we're targeting, but we've left it largely untouched due to the devil presence there. How many nodes?"
Astaroth's eyes lit with understanding. "Seven minor leyline intersections within the city proper. Another four in the surrounding area. All relatively unprotected since the devils don't utilize leyline energy the way yokai do."
"Eleven nodes," Lucion mused. "If we corrupt those... Blood Knight, what's the calculation?"
He closed his eyes briefly, running numbers. "Eleven nodes would push us to approximately eighty-seven percent. More than enough to stabilize the ritual. But Kuoh is devil territory. The Gremory and Sitri heiresses—"
"Are currently here," Lucion interrupted, his lips curving into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Along with their peerages and that troublesome independent human. They're all mobilizing with the yokai forces, which means Kuoh is largely undefended. A perfect opportunity."
The Blood Knight shifted his weight, armor clanking. "A bold strategy, but risky. If we're discovered before completing the corruption—"
"Then you'll handle it." Lucion's tone left no room for argument. "Cydaea will infiltrate Kuoh and begin corrupting the nodes, since Vidian proved not so envious. Out of the rest of you, she's fast, efficient, and specializes in this type of operation. By the time anyone realizes what's happening, it will be too late."
He turned his full attention to Cydaea, who straightened under his gaze.
"You understand what's required?"
"Perfectly, my lord." Her voice held a note of anticipation, clearly eager to participate in the coming slaughter. "The nodes are minor, which means less spiritual resistance than the major ones. I can handle them alone."
"You'll have backup," Lucion said. "Take twenty troopers. They're expendable, but their presence will accelerate the corruption process and provide a distraction if needed."
Cydaea inclined her head, accepting the assignment.
"What of the devils in Kuoh?" Cydaea asked, genuine curiosity coloring his tone. "Surely some guard force remains, even with the heiresses absent."
"Then eliminate them." Lucion's voice was ice. "Quickly and quietly if possible, but don't let their presence slow you down. The leyline corruption is the priority. Everything else is secondary."
"Why can't I go kill humans?" Astaroth mumbled, clearly miffed that he wasn't assigned to the task. Lucion gave a barely perceptible eye roll.
"You'd just destroy the shrines outright," Cydaea taunted, walking up to the tall demon. She lightly patted his cheek. "Leave it to those who are competent, little imp." Rage bloomed in his face, getting ready to strike the insolent wench.
"Enough." At Lucion's word, they both calmed down. "Cydaea. Leave now. Waste any more time and I'll let Astaroth play with you in your own iron maiden." The threat seemed to have the opposite effect than what the demon lord had intended, as a blush crept up on Cydaea's face.
"I'll leave at once—uhhnn," she responded. Astaroth gave her a weird look. Was that a moan?
Lucion turned back to the ritual circle, watching as another pulse of golden energy was ripped from Yasaka's form and fed into the binding stone. The nine-tailed fox's eyes were half-closed, her consciousness wavering between life and oblivion.
Cydaea left shortly after. As soon as she left the room, a demon scout barged in.
"My Lord Lucion! Serfall Leviathon marches with the Yokai!" Lucion glanced at the Fallen scout before turning his attention back toward the Yokai queen.
"I'll handle her."
XXX
The eastern mountains loomed ahead, their peaks shrouded in morning mist that seemed to writhe with unnatural purpose. The combined force of devils and yokai moved through the forested approach in organized columns—two thousand yokai warriors flanked by two hundred devil guards, their spiritual and demonic energies creating a palpable tension in the air.
Toshio walked near the front of the formation, flanked by Rias's peerage. His hand rested on Shinjūka's hilt, the sealed zanpakutō humming with barely contained power against his hip. He could feel the wrongness ahead, the corruption spreading through the leyline network like poison through veins. His Energy Sense painted a detailed picture of the demonic presence concentrated in the cave system ahead.
Rias moved beside him, her crimson hair tied back in a practical ponytail, something Toshio hadn't seen her do before. She'd recovered enough to function, though Toshio noticed the way her hand occasionally drifted to her chest, as if checking that her heart still beat. The trauma from Aeshama's illusion hadn't vanished overnight, but she was fighting through it. That was what mattered.
Akeno walked on his other side, her usual playful demeanor replaced by focused intensity. Lightning crackled occasionally across her fingertips—a nervous habit she'd developed since the underground chamber. She caught him looking and offered a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Kiba was on Akeno's other side, hand gripping his already manifested demonic sword.
Serafall led the formation from the front, her magical girl costume somehow managing to look both ridiculous and intimidating simultaneously. Her usual cheerfulness had evaporated completely, replaced by the cold calculation of a Maou preparing for war. Behind her, Kunou marched with her head held high, flanked by her bodyguards and the yokai elders. Two thousand yokai marched in formation behind them.
Sona and her peerage maintained a position near the rear of the formation, coordinating with the scout units. Tsubaki stayed close to her King, violet eyes watchful behind her glasses.
The forest began to thin as they approached a rocky clearing. The cave entrance would be just beyond—Toshio could sense the concentrated demonic energy pulsing from within the mountain itself.
Then the formation slowed.
A single figure stood in the clearing ahead, perfectly positioned to block their advance. He was tall, perhaps six and a half feet, with features that reminded Toshio of classical demon depictions—sharp angles, aristocratic bearing, and eyes that held the weight of centuries. His armor was obsidian and silver, ornate without being ostentatious, and power radiated from him in waves that made the air itself feel heavy.
The entire force came to a halt.
Serafall's expression shifted from focused determination to genuine alarm in the space of a heartbeat. Toshio watched as her hand went to her devil phone, her movements suddenly urgent.
"That's Lucion," she said, her voice carrying to those nearest her. "Son of Mephisto. One of the original demon lords from before the Great War."
The name meant nothing to Toshio from his meta-knowledge of DxD—this was clearly an element that hadn't existed in the original timeline. But he didn't need a reference to understand the threat. His Energy Sense screamed warnings, painting Lucion's power signature in colors that suggested something far beyond what he'd faced before.
This wasn't just strong. This was catastrophic. If Toshio had to guess, he was at least the level of an ultimate devil, if not stronger.
Serafall's fingers flew across her phone screen, attempting to dial. Her expression darkened as nothing happened. She tried again, then a third time, her movements becoming more frantic with each failed attempt.
"Communication's down," she announced, her voice tight. "All of it."
She raised one hand, demonic energy gathering as she prepared a teleportation circle. The magic formed, the intricate patterns glowing with her signature ice-blue power—then shattered like glass, fragments of failed spell work dissipating into nothing.
"Barrier," Serafall said, and Toshio heard genuine worry beneath her controlled tone. "A large one. They've cut us off completely."
Lucion hadn't moved. He simply stood there, watching them with the patient stillness of a predator that knew its prey had nowhere to run.
Serafall turned sharply to her sister. "Sona, Tsubaki—go. Now. Get to the barrier's edge and contact Sirzechs. We need reinforcements immediately."
"But—" Sona started.
"Now!" The command carried the full weight of a Maou's authority, and Toshio saw Sona's jaw clench as she fought against her instinct to argue.
Tsubaki placed a hand on her King's shoulder. "We need to go."
Sona looked at her sister for a long moment, then nodded once. She and Tsubaki turned and ran, their devil-enhanced speed carrying them back through the forest in blurs of motion.
Toshio watched them disappear into the trees, then returned his attention to Lucion. The demon lord still hadn't moved, content to let them scramble while he stood as an immovable obstacle.
Toshio got the feeling that Serafall wasn't expecting this demon, based on her shocked reaction. And if she was worried, then they were all in dire straits.
XXX
Sona pushed her body to its absolute limit, her legs burning as she channeled demonic power through her muscles. Tsubaki kept pace beside her, both of them racing back through the forest they'd just traversed with the army.
Thirty seconds passed. A minute. Two minutes.
The forest should have thinned by now and should have given way to the more open terrain they'd crossed earlier. Instead, the trees seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, the path they'd taken somehow longer in reverse.
Five minutes.
Sona's mind worked through the implications with her usual analytical precision. A barrier this large required immense power and coordination. It wasn't just blocking communication and teleportation—it was distorting space itself, making the enclosed area seem larger than it actually was. The kind of magic that would require multiple casters working in concert.
Or one incredibly powerful demon lord.
Ten minutes.
The forest finally began to thin. Sona pushed harder, ignoring the protest from her legs and the burning in her lungs. Behind her, she heard Tsubaki's steady breathing, the other girl matching her pace despite the grueling sprint.
Fifteen minutes.
The trees gave way to open ground. Sona stumbled to a stop, her chest heaving as she pulled out her phone. Still nothing. Dead air, no signal, no connection to the outside world.
She moved forward another hundred meters. Two hundred. Five hundred.
Twenty minutes since they'd started running.
Her phone suddenly buzzed to life, the screen lighting up with a cascade of delayed notifications. Missed calls and text messages, all time-stamped from the past hour.
But it was the most recent call—incoming at that very moment—that made her blood run cold.
Ruruko. One of the peerage members she'd left in Kuoh to monitor the situation while they were away.
Sona answered immediately. "Report."
"Sona-kaichou!" Ruruko's voice was strained, frightened. "Demons in Kuoh! Multiple sightings near the shrines. We tried to investigate but there's too many—"
"How many?" Sona interrupted, her mind already racing through tactical calculations.
"At least twenty that we've confirmed, maybe more. They're attacking civilians near all of the shrines, pulling them in. The screams, Sona…"
Sona's stomach dropped. She understood immediately what was happening. This wasn't a coincidental attack. While its defenders were away, they were corrupting Kuoh's leyline nodes to push their ritual over the threshold.
"Fall back," Sona ordered. "Don't engage directly. Monitor and report, but stay safe."
"Understood, Sona-sama."
Sona ended the call and stood there for a moment, her mind working through impossible choices. Behind her, thirty miles away, her sister and their allies faced a demon lord powerful enough to erect a barrier of this magnitude. Ahead of her, Kuoh was under attack, its leylines being corrupted while they were gone.
She could run back to alert Serafall or get backup. Thirty miles at full speed would take another twenty minutes, maybe twenty-five. By the time she arrived, how many more deaths would there be in Kuoh?
Or she and Tsubaki could go themselves and handle the threat there directly, prevent the leyline corruption that was clearly part of a larger strategy, and stop the demons from achieving whatever their goal seemed to be.
"Let's go Tsubaki."
"Right!"
A teleportation circle lit up under Sona's feet, and the two of them vanished in magical particles of light.
XXX
Murayama's legs burned as she climbed the stone steps leading to the Katase family shrine. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the path, the familiar route one they'd walked dozens of times over the past few months. Beside her, Katase matched her pace, both girls carrying bags of offerings and cleaning supplies.
"I still can't believe we're doing this again," Murayama said, though there was no real complaint in her voice. "Your family really takes this shrine maintenance seriously."
Katase smiled, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. "We've known this shrine keeper family for generations. Besides, it's peaceful up here. Good for clearing your head after kendo practice."
They reached the top of the stairs, and the shrine came into view—a modest structure with weathered wood and a small courtyard. The torii gate stood proud against the darkening sky, its red paint faded but still vibrant enough to mark this as sacred ground.
Murayama stepped through the gate first and immediately felt something wrong.
The air was too still. No birds sang in the surrounding trees. No wind rustled through the leaves. The shrine felt dead in a way that made her skin crawl, like stepping into a vacuum where all life had been sucked away.
What was that red stuff coming out of the main entrance?
"Is that…"
"Do you feel that?" Katase interrupted quietly, her hand instinctively going to the wooden practice sword she always carried with her after practice.
Murayama nodded, her own hand finding the grip of her bokken. They'd both trained enough to trust their instincts, and right now every instinct screamed danger.
A figure materialized from behind the shrine's main building. At first, Murayama thought it might be a woman in costume—the purple-black latex armor seemed too theatrical to be real. But then she saw the way the figure moved, fluid and predatory, and the wrongness intensified tenfold.
Then there was that red stuff on her hands too. Wait, was it blood?
Cydaea smiled, revealing teeth that were slightly too sharp and too white. "Well, well. Two more pitiful humans. How delightful."
Murayama didn't waste time with questions. She dropped her bag and drew her bokken in one smooth motion, falling into a defensive stance. Beside her, Katase did the same, both girls moving with the practiced coordination of years training together.
"Who are you?" Katase demanded. "This is private property. Leave now or—"
Cydaea moved.
One moment she stood twenty feet away. The next, she was on top of them, her hand piercing through Katase's chest with surgical precision. Blood sprayed across the shrine's courtyard, painting the ancient stones crimson.
"KATASE!" Murayama's scream tore from her throat as she watched her best friend's eyes go wide with shock and pain.
Cydaea withdrew her hand with casual indifference, letting Katase's body crumple to the ground. "One down~." Her voice seemed like it was full of pleasure.
Rage flooded through Murayama, drowning out the terror. She lunged forward, her bokken coming down in a perfect overhead strike—one that should have connected, should have at least forced the demon to dodge.
Cydaea caught the wooden sword with one hand, stopping it cold. Then she twisted, and Murayama heard the crack of breaking wood before pain exploded across her ribs. The demon's kick sent her flying backward into the shrine's wall, and she felt something inside her break on impact.
Murayama slid to the ground, coughing blood. Her vision blurred, the world tilting sideways as her body tried to process the damage. She could see Katase's motionless form, see the pool of blood spreading beneath her friend, and fury warred with despair in her chest.
Cydaea approached slowly, savoring the moment. "Such delicious fear and despair, I can practically taste it coming out of you," the demon moaned out.
"Your blood should be the last I need to finish consecrating this last shrine."
She raised her hand, claws extending, preparing to finish what she'd started.
A blur of black and gold slammed into Cydaea from the side, driving her away from Murayama. The two figures tumbled across the courtyard in a tangle of limbs and power, and when they separated, Murayama saw her savior clearly for the first time.
A woman with long black hair tied up in an odd way, golden eyes with vertical pupils, and an aura of feline grace that seemed impossible for a human. She wore a revealing black cheongsam, and her hands crackled with some kind of purplish energy that made the air shimmer with heat.
"Kuroka," Cydaea hissed, recognition clear in her voice. "The stray cat. This doesn't concern you."
"Nya, but I think it does." Kuroka's voice was deceptively light, but her eyes held nothing but lethal intent. "Can't have demons running around corrupting shrines in my dear sister's territory."
They clashed again, and this time Murayama could barely track the movements. Her fading vision didn't help.
Kuroka moved with inhuman speed and flexibility, her attacks flowing like water around Cydaea's defenses. The demon countered with brutal efficiency, her claws leaving trails of corrupted energy in the air. They threw what seemed like magic at each other.
Murayama tried to move, tried to crawl toward Katase, but her body wouldn't respond properly. Something was broken inside her—something vital. Blood filled her mouth, and each breath came harder than the last.
She watched through dimming vision as Kuroka and Cydaea traded blows that would have killed any normal person instantly. The shrine courtyard became a battlefield, stone cracking under the force of their impacts, wood splintering when spells slammed into structures.
Kuroka's movements were calculated, each strike and dodge part of a larger strategy Murayama's fading consciousness couldn't fully comprehend. The nekomata's hands wove intricate patterns in the air, golden light mixing with purple energy as she combined senjutsu and youjutsu in ways that made reality itself seem to bend.
"Nya, you demons really don't know when to quit, do you?" Kuroka taunted, her fingers dancing through another series of hand signs.
Small spheres of concentrated senjutsu aura materialized around her—dozens of them, each one pulsing with destructive potential. They hung in the air like malevolent fireflies before she thrust her palm forward, sending them streaking toward Cydaea in rapid succession.
The demon twisted and weaved, her supernatural agility allowing her to avoid most of the barrage. But several connected, each impact exploding against her latex armor with concussive force that left scorch marks on the material.
"Impressive," Cydaea admitted, landing in a crouch. "But parlor tricks won't be enough to—"
She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she noticed something in the air around them. A faint mist had begun to spread across the courtyard, so subtle and thin that it was nearly invisible in the late afternoon light.
Cydaea's lips curled into a dismissive smirk. "Poison? Really? How pedestrian." She straightened, completely unconcerned. Demons of her caliber had resistances that made most toxins ineffective, let alone her own innate resistance to all poisons, she herself being a poison master, and she'd survived far worse than whatever a stray nekomata could conjure.
Kuroka's golden eyes glinted with something dangerous. "Nya, you really should pay more attention to your surroundings."
The battle resumed with renewed intensity. Cydaea's hands moved in blur patterns, and suddenly the air around Kuroka filled with nearly invisible threads—spider silk strong as steel cable, each one coated in her own lethal venom. They sliced through the air with whistling sounds, creating a web of death that would shred anything caught within.
Large chunks of earth were sliced apart, the nearby buildings collapsing under the intensity and cutting power of the near-invisible threads.
Kuroka dodged with feline grace, her body contorting in ways that defied normal anatomy. But even her supernatural flexibility couldn't avoid everything. One thread caught her shoulder, cutting through cloth and skin with ease. Blood welled from the wound.
Cydaea's smile widened, anticipating the poison's effect. Any normal being would be convulsing by now, their nervous system shutting down from the toxin's potency.
Kuroka simply wiped the blood away, completely unbothered. "Nya, did you really think poison would work on me? I'm a senjutsu master, you stupid spider. Controlling life energy means controlling biological processes." She flexed her shoulder, and the wound began to close before Cydaea's eyes. "Your poison is just another form of energy to manipulate."
Frustration flickered across Cydaea's features. She sent another wave of threads, these ones faster and more numerous. They created a cage of cutting edges that should have been impossible to escape.
But Kuroka was already moving, her body flowing like water through gaps that seemed too small to exist. And all the while, that subtle mist continued to spread, permeating the courtyard with each passing second.
"Nya, I'm underestimated all the time by worthless beings like you," Kuroka huffed, dodging another thread. "All because I'm a stray devil, yet I can contend with the truly strong!" Kuroka yelled, a manic gleam in her eye, clearly enjoying the fight.
They continued to shread and explode the earth and buildings, though no attacks touched the main shrine building. Thirty seconds into the fight, Cydaea felt the first twinge of wrongness in her muscles.
Sixty seconds, and her movements began to feel sluggish, like moving through honey.
At ninety seconds, she realized her mistake.
"What..." Cydaea stumbled slightly, her usual fluid grace disrupted. She looked down at her hands and saw the faint tremor in her fingers. "What did you do?"
Kuroka's smile was predatory. "Told you to pay attention, nya. That mist? It's not just poison—it's senjutsu-enhanced poison specifically designed to affect demonic physiology. Took me years to perfect the formula." She began walking forward, her movements casual and unhurried, not even out of breath from the intense battle.
"See, regular poison you can resist. But when it's infused with life energy manipulation? When it's designed to disrupt the very flow of demonic power through your body? That's a different story, nya."
Cydaea tried to launch another attack, but her threads came out slower and weaker. Her body was betraying her, muscles responding a fraction of a second too late. It wasn't debilitating yet, but in a fight between beings of their caliber, even a small reduction in speed was fatal.
"You bitch," Cydaea snarled, gathering her power for one last desperate assault.
Kuroka moved. "Hey I'm not a dog you know~."
Touki—the life energy reinforcement technique—flooded through the nekomata's body, drastically enhancing her physical capabilities. Her muscles compressed and released with explosive force, propelling her forward faster than Cydaea's poisoned body could track.
Kuroka's hand, reinforced with layers of concentrated touki, drove forward with surgical precision.
It punched through Cydaea's chest exactly where the demon had struck Katase moments before—a deliberate, poetic reversal. Kuroka's fingers found Cydaea's core, that nexus of demonic energy that sustained her physical form, and crushed it.
Cydaea's eyes went wide with shock and pain. Blood—black and viscous—poured from her mouth as she looked down at the arm protruding from her chest. "How... dare..."
"Nya, you came to my sister's territory," Kuroka said quietly, her voice devoid of its usual playfulness. "You attacked innocents. You corrupted sacred ground. Did you really think there wouldn't be consequences?"
She twisted her hand, and Cydaea's body convulsed.
"Plus, your demon allies hurt my Toshio quite badly in the past. And I tend to hold a grudge." Kuroka's voice was a vicious whisper, eyes practically glowing with malintent.
The demon tried to speak, to curse, to threaten, but only more blood
spilling from her lips. "You're just a stray—"
"I'm the stray who killed you, nya." Kuroka twisted her hand, and Cydaea's body convulsed once before going still.
The demon's corpse hit the ground with a wet thud, beginning to slowly dissolve into ash.
Once she released her accumulated Touki, Senjutsu, and Youjutsu, Kuroka stood there for a moment, breathing slightly labored from the effort, then turned toward Murayama. Her golden eyes widened as she took in the extent of the injuries.
Reaching Murayama first, she kneeled beside the dying girl. "Hey, kid. Stay with me."
Murayama tried to speak, but only blood came out. Her vision was going dark around the edges, the world fading to a distant point of light.
"Damn it," Kuroka muttered. Her injuries were past what life energy manipulation could possibly heal, especially on a human. She moved to Katase next, checking for a pulse. Her expression went flat. "Damn it."
Murayama felt herself slipping away. The pain was fading now, replaced by a cold numbness that spread from her core outward. She could see Katase lying there, her best friend's eyes staring at nothing, and wondered distantly if she'd see her again soon.
Then even that thought faded, and there was only darkness.
Kuroka stood between the two girls' bodies, her hands clenched into fists. She'd arrived too late—sensed the demonic corruption spreading through the leyline beneath the shrine and rushed to investigate, but by the time she'd gotten here, the demon had already struck.
Kuroka knew that these humans were at least mildly important to Toshio, and she didn't arrive in time to save them. She really shouldn't have taken that fourth nap. Toshio had asked her to watch over things, but she never expected demons to attack here of all places.
Kuroka's thoughts were interrupted by a teleportation circle lighting up the shrine courtyard, its magic signature unmistakably devil. Kuroka's body tensed, preparing to flee, but before she could move, Sona Sitri materialized with Tsubaki at her side.
Sona's violet eyes took in the scene instantly—two dead girls, a stray nekoshou standing over them, and the dissolving remains of something demonic nearby. Her hand came up, magic gathering in her palm as she fixed Kuroka with a cold stare.
"Step away from them," Sona commanded, her voice carrying absolute authority.
Kuroka raised her hands slowly, showing she held no weapons. "Not what it looks like, little Sitri."
"Then explain quickly." Sona's magic didn't dissipate, but she didn't fire either. In fact it grew just a little due to the nickname that the neko just used.
"Demon attacked the shrine," Kuroka said, gesturing to Cydaea's fading corpse. "I stopped her, but I was too late to save these two. They were already down when I got here."
Sona's eyes flicked to the demonic remains, noting their position relative to the bodies. Her analytical mind worked through the scene, calculating angles and timelines. It was unlikely. But then, looking at Kuroka closer, Sona finally recognized her.
"Wait, you're the wanted SS-class criminal, Kuroka," Sona said solemnly. She knew that had Kuroka wanted, Sona would be dead in an instant. She had heard the stories of how powerful Kuroka allegedly was. And viewing the battleground, they didn't seem to be an exaggeration. The wanted nekoshou didn't even have a scratch on her despite the localized devastation!
"Why are you here?" Sona inquired, her entire body tense.
"I was in the neighborhood, nya~." Kuroka winked and cat-pawed at Sona. "This demon seemed like good fun to play with." Kuroka smirked, hoping Sona would buy it.
"Though, it's kind of sad I didn't get here in time to save these humans," Kuroka said exaggeratingly, indicating them with a head tilt.
Sona looked closer and recognized them to be Murayama and Katase, kendo club elites and friends of Toshio. They had talent. It would be a shame to waste it. Sona walked over and kneeled next to Katase, the dead girl's eyes glazed over and blood no longer seeping out.
"Tsubaki."
"Of course, Sona-sama." Tsubaki handed a small item over to her King. Sona turned to address Kuroka again, only to realize she was long gone.
She sighed. "I should probably tell someone she was here." She adjusted her glasses, then resumed her task.